'Tis good, too, that the Duke of Wellington has a good Word or so in the Examiner. A man ought to have the Fame he deserves -and I begin to think that detracting from him as well as from Wordsworth is the same thing. I wish he had a little more taste — and did not in that respect 'deal in Lieutenantry.' You should have heard from me before this but in the first place I did not like to do so before I had got a little way in the First Book, and in the next as G. told me you were going to write I delayed till I had heard from you. Give my Respects the next time you write to the North and also to John Hunt. Remember me to Reynolds and tell him to write. Ay, and when you send Westward tell your Sister that I mentioned her in this. So now in the name of Shakspeare, Raphael and all our Saints, I commend you to the care of heaven!

Your everlasting Friend JOHN Keats.

9. TO MESSRS. TAYLOR AND HESSEY

Margate, May 16, 1817. MY DEAR SIRS-I am extremely indebted to you for your liberality in the shape of manufactured rag, value £20, and shall immediately proceed to destroy some of the minor heads of that hydra the dun; to conquer which the knight need have no Sword

Shield Cuirass, Cuisses Herbadgeon Spear Casque Greaves Paldrons spurs Chevron or any other scaly commodity, but he need only take the Bank-note of Faith and Cash of Salvation, and set out against the monster, invoking the aid of no Archimago or Urganda, but finger me the paper, light as the Sibyl's leaves in Virgil, whereat the fiend skulks off with his tail between his legs. Touch him with this enchanted paper, and he whips you his head away as fast as a snail's horn but then the horrid propensity he has to put it up again has discouraged many very valiant Knights. He is such a never-ending still-beginning sort of a body-like my landlady of the Bell. I should conjecture that the very spright that the green sour ringlets makes Whereof the ewe not bites' had manufactured it of the dew fallen on said sour ringlets. I think I could make a nice little allegorical poem, called 'The Dun,' where we would have the Castle of Carelessness, the drawbridge of credit, Sir Novelty Fashion's expedition against the City of Tailors, etc. etc. I went day by day at my poem for a Month - at the end of which time the other day I found my Brain so over-wrought that I had neither rhyme nor reason in it — so was obliged to give up for a few days. I hope soon to be able to resume my work I have endeavoured to do so once or twice;

but to no purpose. Instead of Poetry, I have a swimming in my head and feel all the effects of a Mental debauch, lowness of Spirits, anxiety to go on without the power to do so, which does not at all tend to my ultimate progression. However tomorrow I will begin my next month. This evening I go to Canterbury, having got tired of Margate. I was not right in my head when I came - At Canterbury I hope the remembrance of Chaucer will set me forward like a Billiard Ball. I am glad to hear of Mr. T.'s health, and of the welfare of the 'Intown-stayers.' And think Reynolds will like his Trip- I have some idea of seeing the Continent some time this summer.

In

repeating how sensible I am of your kindness, I remain

Yobed serv and friend JOHN KEATS. I shall be happy to hear any little intelligence in the literary or friendly way when you have time to scribble.

10. TO THE SAME

[London] Tuesday Morn [July 8, 1817]. MY DEAR SIRS - I must endeavour to lose my maidenhead with respect to money Matters as soon as possible — And I will

too So, here goes! A couple of Duns that I thought would be silent till the beginning, at least, of next month (when I am certain to be on my legs, for certain sure), have opened upon me with a cry most untuneable;' never did you hear such un-'gallant chiding.' Now you must know, I am not desolate, but have, thank God, 25 good notes in my fob. But then, yon know, I laid them by to write with and would stand at bay a fortnight ere they should grab me. In a month's time I must pay, but it would relieve my mind if I owed you, instead of these Pelican duns.

I am afraid you will say I have 'wound about with circumstance,' when I should have asked plainly however as I said I am a little maidenish or so, and I feel my virginity come strong upon me, the while I request the loan of a £20 and a £10, which, if you would enclose to me, I would acknowledge and save myself a hot forehead. I am sure you are confident of my responsibility, and in the sense of squareness that is always in me. Your obliged friend

JOHN KEATS.

11. TO MARIANE AND JANE REYNOLDS 10

Oxf[ord, September 5, 1817].

MY DEAR FRIENDS - You are I am glad to hear comfortable at Hampton,11 where I hope you will receive the Biscuits we ate

the other night at Little Britain. I hope you found them good. There you are among sands, stones, Pebbles, Beeches, Cliffs, Rocks, Deeps, Shallows, weeds, ships, Boats (at a distance), Carrots, Turnips, sun, moon, and stars and all those sort of things – here am I among Colleges, halls, Stalls, Plenty of Trees, thank God - Plenty of water, thank heaven Plenty of Books, thank the Muses Plenty of Snuff, thank Sir Walter Raleigh - Plenty of segars, Ditto Plenty of flat country, thank Tellus's rolling-pin. I'm on the sofa - Buonaparte is on the snuff-box-But you are by the seaside argal, you bathe you walk you say 'how beautiful' find out resemblances between waves and camels - rocks and dancing-masters fireshovels and telescopes - Dolphins and Madonas which word, by the way, I must acquaint you was derived from the Syriac, and came down in a way which neither of you I am sorry to say are at all capable of comprehending. But as a time may come when by your occasional converse with me you may arrive at something like prophetic strain,' I will unbar the gates of my pride and let my condescension stalk forth like a ghost at the Circus. The word Ma-don-a, my dear Ladies -or - the word Mad - Onaso I say! I am not mad Howsumever when that aged Tamer Kewthon sold a certain camel called Peter to the overseer of the Babel Sky-works, he thus spake, adjusting his cravat round the tip of his chin My dear Ten-story-up-in-air! this here Beast, though I say it as should n't say 't, not only has the power of subsisting 40 days and 40 nights without fire and candle but he can sing.. Here I have in my Pocket a Certificate from Signor Nicolini of the King's Theatre; a Certificate to this effect 'I have had dinner since I left that effect upon you, and feel too heavy in mentibus to display all the Profundity of the Polygon so you had better each of you take a glass of cherry Brandy and drink to the health of Archimedes, who was

of so benign a disposition that he never would leave Syracuse in his life - So kept himself out of all Knight-Errantry. This I know to be a fact; for it is written in the 45th book of Winkine's treatise on gardenrollers, that he trod on a fishwoman's toe in Liverpool, and never begged her pardon. Now the long and short is this— that is by comparison for a long day may be a short year A long Pole may be a very stupid fellow as a man. But let us refresh ourself from this depth of thinking, and turn to some innocent jocularity — the Bow cannot always be bent - nor the gun always loaded, if you ever let it off and the life of man is like a great Mountain - his breath is like a Shrewsbury cake he comes into the world like a shoeblack, and goes out of it like a cobbler he eats like a chimneysweeper, drinks like a gingerbread baker - and breathes like Achilles-so it being that we are such sublunary creatures, let us endeavour to correct all our bad spelling - all our most delightful abominations, and let us wish health to Mariane and Jane, whoever they be and wherever.

Yours truly

JOHN KEATS.

this transmitted to me every now and then will procure you full sheets of Writing from me pretty frequently. This I feel as a necessity for we ought to become intimately acquainted, in order that I may not only, as you grow up love you as my only Sister, but confide in you as my dearest friend. When I saw you last I told you of my intention of going to Oxford and 't is now a Week since I disembark'd from his Whipship's Coach the Defiance in this place. I am living in Magdalen Hall on a visit to a young Man with whom I have not been long acquainted, but whom I like very much we lead very industrious lives

he in general Studies and I in proceeding at a pretty good rate with a Poem which I hope you will see early in the next year.— Perhaps you might like to know what I am writing about. I will tell you. Many Years ago there was a young handsome Shepherd who fed his flocks on a Mountain's Side called Latmus- he was a very contemplative sort of Person and lived solitary among the trees and Plains little thinking that such a beautiful Creature as the Moon was growing mad in Love with him. However so it was; and when he was asleep on the Grass she used to come down from heaven and admire him excessively for a long time; and at last could not refrain from carrying him away in her arms to the top of that high Mountain Latmus while he was a dreaming but I daresay you have read this and all the other beautiful Tales which have come down from the ancient times of that beautiful Greece. If you have not let me know and I will tell you more at large of others quite as delightful. This Oxford I have no doubt is the finest City in the world it is full of old Gothic buildings Spires towers Quadrangles Cloisters-Groves, etc., and is surrounded with more clear streams than ever I saw together. I take a Walk by the Side of one of them every Evening and, thank God, we have not had a drop of rain these many days. I had a long and interesting Letter

-

from George, cross lines by a short one from Tom yesterday dated Paris. They both send their loves to you. Like most Englishmen they feel a mighty preference for everything English - the French Meadows, the trees, the People, the Towns, the Churches, the Books, the everything - although they may be in themselves good: yet when put in comparison with our green Island they all vanish like Swallows in October. They have seen Cathedrals, Manuscripts, Fountains, Pictures, Tragedy, Comedy, with other things you may by chance meet with in this Country such as Washerwomen, Lamplighters, Turnpikemen, Fishkettles, Dancing Masters, Kettle drums, Sentry Boxes, Rocking Horses, etc. -and, now they have taken them over a set of boxing-gloves.

I have written to George and requested him, as you wish I should, to write to you. I have been writing very hard lately, even till an utter incapacity came on, and I feel it now about my head: so you must not mind a little out-of-the-way sayings - though by the bye were my brain as clear as a bell I think I should have a little propensity thereto. I shall stop here till I have finished the 3d Book of my Story; which I hope will be accomplish'd in at most three Weeks from to-day about which time you shall see me. How do you like Miss Taylor's essays in Rhyme 12 - I just look'd into the Book and it appeared to me suitable to you especially since I remember your liking for those pleasant little things the Original Poems the essays are the more mature production of the same hand. While I was speaking about France it occurred to me to speak a few Words on their Language — it is perhaps the poorest one ever spoken since the jabbering in the Tower of Babel, and when you come to know that the real use and greatness of a Tongue is to be referred to its Literature - you will be astonished to find how very inferior it is to our native Speech. I wish the Italian would supersede French in every school throughout the

a most lamentable mistake indeed. Italian indeed would sound most musically from Lips which had began to pronounce it as early as French is crammed down our Mouths, as if we were young Jackdaws at the mercy of an overfeeding Schoolboy. Now Fanny you must write soon- and write all

-

you think about, never mind what-only let me have a good deal of your writingYou need not do it all at once- - be two or three or four days about it, and let it be a diary of your little Life. You will preserve all my Letters and I will secure yours and thus in the course of time we shall each of us have a good Bundle which, hereafter, when things may have strangely altered and God knows what happened, we may read over together and look with pleasure on times past that now are to come. Give my Respects to the Ladies and so my dear Fanny I am ever

MY DEAR JANE- You are such a literal translator, that I shall some day amuse myself with looking over some foreign sentences, and imagining how you would render them into English. This is an age for typical Curiosities; and I would advise you, as a good speculation, to study Hebrew, and astonish the world with a figurative version in our native tongue. The Mountains skipping like rams, and the little hills like lambs, you will leave as far behind as the hare did the tortoise. It must be so or you would never have thought that I really

and superb when

meant you would like to pro and con about those Honeycombs - no, I had no such idea, or, if I had, 't would be only to tease you a little for love. So now let me put down in black and white briefly my sentiments thereon. Imprimis believe that Imogen is the finest creature, and that I should have been disappointed at hearing you prefer Juliet - Item - Yet I feel such a yearning towards Juliet that I would rather follow her into Pandemonium than Imogen into Paradise - heartily wishing myself a Romeo to be worthy of her, and to hear the Devils quote the old proverb, 'Birds of a feather flock together'Amen.

Now let us turn to the Seashore. Believe me, my dear Jane, it is a great happiness to see that you are in this finest part of the year winning a little enjoyment from the hard world. In truth, the great Elements we know of, are no mean comforters: the open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it - able, like David's harp, to make such a one as you forget almost the tempest cares of life. I have found in the ocean's music, varying (tho self-same) more than the passion of Timotheus, an enjoyment not to be put into words; and, though inland far I be,' I now hear the voice most audibly while pleasing myself in the idea of your sensations.

is getting well apace, and if you have a few trees, and a little harvesting about you, I'll snap my fingers in Lucifer's eye. I hope you bathe too if you do not, I earnestly recommend it. Bathe thrice a week, and let us have no more sitting up next winter. Which is the best of Shakspeare's plays? I mean in what mood and with what accompaniment do you like the sea best? It is very fine in the morning, when the sun,

'Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt sea streams,'

'To his home

Within the Western foam.'

But don't you think there is something extremely fine after sunset, when there are a few white clouds about and a few stars blinking — when the waters are ebbing, and the horizon a mystery? This state of things has been so fulfilling to me that I am anxious to hear whether it is a favourite with you. So when you and Marianne club your letter to me put in a word or two about it. Tell Dilke 18 that it would be perhaps as well if he left a Pheasant or Partridge alive here and there to keep up a supply of game for next season - tell him

to rein in if Possible all the Nimrod of his disposition, he being a mighty hunter before the Lord of the Manor. Tell him to shoot fair, and not to have at the Poor devils in a furrow when they are flying, he may fire, and nobody will be the wiser.

Give my sincerest respects to Mrs. Dilke, saying that I have not forgiven myself for not having got her the little box of medicine I promised, and that, had I remained at Hampstead I would have made precious havoc with her house and furniture - drawn a great harrow over her garden — poisoned Boxer-eaten her clothes-pegs - fried her cabbages fricaseed (how is it spelt ?) her radishes ragout'd her Onions belaboured her beat-root-outstripped her scarlet-runners parlez-vous'd with her french-beans devoured her mignon or mignionette - metamorphosed her bellhandles splintered her looking-glassesbullocked at her cups and saucers — nised her decanters- put old Phillips to pickle in the brine-tub-disorganised her piano dislocated her candlesticks - emptied her wine-bins in a fit of despair

ago